


Sibuna secret Sanra (cause I can't think of a title)

by RonStepupable



Category: House of Anubis
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonStepupable/pseuds/RonStepupable
Summary: my submissions for @realtruesucessorprompt: "literally anything Patricia x Joy or Jerome x Mara." Well, hold onto your cowboy hat, I'm doing both,chapter one: This is a personal headcanon of mine that Patricia had an unrequited crush on Joy from season one to midseason two (also apart of my headcanon is Joy actually has some feelings for Patricia as well but projects them onto Fabian as he stands for everything she had before Season one, and as a means to repress her attraction to girls as she comes to terms with her sexuality (bisexual or lesbian I personally don’t care.) That being said, that tidbit doesn’t really play into this, so ignore it lol. This scene is set in the aftermath of the S1 finale.chapter two:  this one is a quick snippet from my rewrite of the second season, pretty much cannon just with a slight twist and IDk, I think it's adorable.
Relationships: Jara - Relationship, Joytricia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. "This Doesn't Have to be Weird"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@realtruesucessor on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40realtruesucessor+on+tumblr).



> So, I wrote the first one in my bed in the middle of the night. so be nice to me. 
> 
> also, I didn’t really put that much effort into formatting, so, sorry about that.

“What are you doing?” Joy hissed, skirting the wall as she followed Patricia into the girls’ toilets. Patricia ignored her, hiking up the hem of her black dress as she hoisted herself onto the counters. She slid her feet into the dry sink and grinned goofily at Joy.

“Thank god for spandex, am I right?” she giggled, pulling her skirt to ride over the crest of her knees. She patted the sink next to her then wedged the black pumps off of her feet and tossed them on the floor. “Pardon the smell, my feet are killing me.” she ran the water over her toes and laughed slightly as the cold water startled her. Joy glanced once at the open door then to Patricia. She kicked the door shut and hopped up next to her. She shot a strange look at Patricia and the running sink. 

“Honest, it’s heavenly,” Patricia defended, plastering a hand to her presumably beating heart. 

“I’d join but I know you’ve got that feet thing.” 

Patricia stopped and raised an eyebrow impressively high. 

“You’re mocking me!” 

Joy snorted into her fingers and raised her hands in mock surrender. 

“Why would I mock you?” 

Patricia scoffed and fell against the wall with a thud. She switched the water off with her dripping toes.

“May I remind you that _you_ were the one who kicked my front teeth out.”

Joy’s expression wavered between humour and guilt, but ultimately, humour won. “We were six years old, Patricia, I didn’t mean to give you a phobia!” 

Patricia audibly rolled her eyes and propped her ankles on the hot water spout to dry. Then Patricia did something that genuinely surprised Joy. She nailed her eyes to Joy and said, “Are you okay?” 

Joy spluttered, her lashes dropping in a quick, flashed blink. 

“What?” 

Patricia swung her legs over the edge of the counter and scooted over the sink to slid in next to Joy. The gesture stilled Joy’s ferociously pounding heart. A flood of memories from countless sleepovers and movie-marathons spent squished on their shoved-together beds helped to make Joy feel less like an oddity in this very odd setting. Patricia threaded her fingers through Joy’s and squeezed tenderly the way she always did. 

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in _months,_ ” she emphasized that word with nothing but the flare of her eyes. “And you’ve been through something that makes my insides curl. I want to know my best friend is okay.” 

The comment sent slivers of happiness through her blood. Joy forced a smile through her quivering lips and pressed back.

“As okay as I can be.” 

“What did you do for all those months?” Patricia asked with eyes too large for her sockets. “Were you okay? Were you bored?”

“Just Dad and a chessboard,” Joy admitted half-heartedly, pushing her urge to vent everything that had happened down her throat. Telling Patricia would only upset her and tonight was supposed to be a night of triumph. If it turned into a tear-fest, Joy would kill a man. Well, maybe not that but something equally dramatic. 

“I don’t get it,” Patricia huffed, moulding her body tighter to Joy’s. Joy suctioned onto her because the closer she got the safer she felt. “If they thought Rufus was dead, why did they need to take you out so early?” 

A clump of Joy’s off-black hair slipped from behind her delicate ears. Patricia corralled it back into place, she could practically hear Joy blush. 

“They needed to coach me on my duties and worried I’d blab if I wasn’t in isolation.” 

Patricia’s knuckles tensed around Joy’s fingers. It hurt but Joy acted like it didn’t. 

“But I’m here now, with you and Fabes and the others. And everything’s worked out.” 

Joy’s smile had a whispy edge, something Patricia found stupidly adorable. Joy cleared her throat, pushing back a sob. 

“I was so frightened you would have found a new friend, that things would be so weird if I ever saw you again.” 

Patricia leaned her head against the mirror, picking up her hand and taking Joy’s hand with it. She brought her lips delicately to Joy’s knuckles, something that made her breath hitch in her chest. Patricia was being so soft and easy. That wasn’t Patricia. Patricia was loud screeching and giggling late into the night, aggressive slang and indecipherable speech and wild eyes. Joy used to think that eyes never changed. Her father's eyes had always been so docile and loving until one day they weren’t. And now Patricia’s blazing green irises were so subdued only the embers smoked. Still, that didn’t mean things were weird, Patricia was capable of being soft like this, though Joy could count the number of times on one hand. 

“Not a chance,” she whispered, giggling a bit under her breath. She gazed horizontally at Joy. Her eyes were steady, sympathetic. “You’re stuck with me, Mercer.” 

Joy’s shoulders shook with sudden laughter, or was it sudden sobs? Either way, she choked something back and forced a painful smile. 

“Thank goodness.” 

The corner of Patricia’s lips lifted in a smile. Joy tilted her chin to catch a better angle of her in the harsh light of the bathroom. Patricia was absolutely radiant at this new angle, the shadows of the previous one vanishing and lighting up her features like a Christmas tree. Patricia untwined their digits then traced the contour of Joy’s face with her fingertips. Joy wasn’t quite sure what was happening, she’d seen endless romcoms and right about now the characters usually kissed. 

Patricia did just that and all of Joy’s nerves went collectively insane. She was thoughtless, as in there was not a single thought in her brain. She froze, becoming about as lifelike as a burial shabti. She could feel her fingernails punching crescents into her palms but ignored them. Among other things she could feel Patricia’s body glued to hers, the edges of Patricia’s hair tickling her cheeks and Patricia’s lips buttoned on top of hers. And there it was: an exquisite moment of suspended existence. Joy felt her brain systematically shutting down. She needed to act or she would be frozen like this forever. Joy was close enough to feel Patricia’s unbridled affection blazing up at her, but Patricia felt nothing but the roar in her blood. Joy was dizzy with Adrenalin, and she realized she hadn’t breathed or even blinked since lip-locking with her childhood best friend. She had known where Patricia’s liking lay since they were thirteen. You just don’t know somebody that well for that long and not know that kind of thing, but Joy had always felt safe, out of bounds, protected by the sheer wonderful nature of their friendship. She realized in that shattering moment that that was probably her downfall. 

She was right to be worried. Things were weird. Things were different. Everything was. Everything she had loved about her old life was gone and this strange, unfamiliar one was what she had instead. 

She dragged a breath into her frozen lungs and managed to blink once; then twice and exhaled. 

Patricia froze, just as solitary as Joy had been. Her eyes were still closed, lips still hovering over Joy’s but something pulled at her lips and a shadow crossed her face. Joy wanted to sob. She hadn’t meant to cause that look. Patricia had been second choice so many times for so long, and Joy knew she had just been passed over yet again by the person who always put her first. Joy felt like a murderer and it made her stomach knot. Patricia leaned back, cupping a hand over her chapped lips, still slightly bloody from the night’s event. She closed and opened her eyes, then turned to look at Joy. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have asked.You didn’t kiss back.” 

Joy smiled briefly, but then it faded. Patricia could feel her pulling away without moving a muscle. 

“It’s alright,” Joy breathed, letting her shoulders fall with the rhythm of her racing heart. “It’s just that I—”

“Like Fabian,” Patricia cut in, conveniently turning away just as her voice quivered. “A lot has happened since you lef—” she froze, blinked and let a tear trickle down her nose. “Since you were taken,” she said very softly into the quiet, deadly air of that stuffy loo. “Whatever might have happened between you two has passed.” She clamped her hand over Joy’s knee, the single tear dropped onto her hand like a falling bomb. She smiled weakly up at Joy, a gesture that made Joy’s insides shriek. “Just like us.” 

The news hit Joy like a hurricane. Had words been palpable she would’ve jerked back from the whiplash. She blinked back her own tears and matched her hand to Patricia’s. So many things were going to be weird now, but this didn’t have to be. Not if she didn’t want it to. 

“Let’s dance.”


	2. Dahlias and Daisies

Mara stood before her locker, jamming the key unceremoniously into the lock. She wore a troubled and undoubtedly frustrated look. 

“Turn it the other way,” Jerome said without greeting. She jumped at the sound of his voice. In her peripheral, she could see him standing directly behind and to the left of her. She sighed, flipped the key and it slid in flawlessly. She opened her locker carefully, keeping an eye on the red binder that was jammed horizontally across the opening. 

He rapped his knuckles gently on Mara’s locker. She looked up and smiled at the bouquet of mixed flowers of various shades of yellow, pink, and blue. 

“I’m not sure if there’s certain conduct for giving someone flowers so I’m just gonna...give them to you?” He shrugged and held out the bundle. Though she was smiling through her heavy blush, she held the stems wearily at a distance. 

“If I smell these is water going to squirt in my face?” 

Jerome snickered and shook his head. “No, no, this is for being a rock. I could not have visited my dad without you.” 

She rolled her eyes and punched his arm. “Yes, you could.  _ But, _ I’m keeping these.” For a few seconds, there was silence. Then Mara’s smile widened just a little bit. 

“As it turns out, I have a little something for you too.” She set the flowers delicately in the crook of her arm. “I’m really proud of you for going to see your dad. I know that must have been incredibly difficult, and I can’t imagine what it must have been like. But you did it. And even though you almost couldn’t take it you stuck with it. And I’m really impressed that you could do that.” The moment she pulled her gift out of her locker Jerome started laughing. Also laughing, Mara proded a bouquet of electric blue flowers at him. 

“I debated getting these or getting you something funny like chocolates that are worms or something, but, in the end, I went with these. Your room is disgusting and you deserve to look at something pretty.” 

Grinning, Jerome tucked the flowers in the flap of his book bag. His grin faded slowly till he was glaring at the floor. He smoothed out the leg of his trousers and cleared his gravelly throat.

“Really?” He asked. She smirked and nodded.

“ _ Really _ , you’re room is horrid.”

His eyebrows furrowed still. 

“No, what you said before that.” 

“Oh.” Mara smiled sincerely and slid her finger in the domed shape petal of one of the ornate dahlias. “Really,” she said. Then, like the boy next to her, her smile diluted until she was frowning slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Jerome asked. 

“Nothing,” she answered wistfully. 

“Come on, Jeffray, lying isn’t among your many talents. What’s up? You allergic to pollen? Cause they have plastic ones at the market.”

A small portion of her smile was returned. 

“No, it’s not that. I’m worried about Poppy.” Jerome’s look was wiped off and replaced with annoyance. 

“What? you think I should tell her?” 

“It’s only fair,” she chided. 

“I can’t,” his tone was flat, face impassive. 

“But why not?”

“I can’t tell-”

Mara stamped a foot, huffing out a lung-full of withheld air. “You can’t tell me, f ine!” 

Jerome’s brow furrowed and he swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed. When he spoke it was obvious he was trying to modulate his tone to sound increasingly more civil than what he felt. 

“I was going to say I can’t tell her our deadbeat dad isn’t such a deadbeat after all.” Her glower faltered and silence smothered the conversation.

“Hey?” Poppy’s timid voice broke through the atmosphere of quiet. Jerome’s knuckles tensed. Most likely, he was trying to determine if she had heard overheard him or not. Poppy looked from the dahlias to the delphiniums and wrinkled her nose.

“What are the flowers for?” She inquired. She might sound distasteful but there was a grin that began and ended in her eyes, one that she masked well. 

“Oh, it’s um...Trudy’s birthday,” Jerome said without skipping a beat. 

“Oh…” Poppy sounded disappointed. “Alright then.” They stared at another for a few seconds longer than awkward. “You okay? You seem a little preoccupied.” It seemed to take a few seconds for Poppy’s question to sink in. 

“What?” Jerome said blankly, “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired.” 

Poppy gave a very female shrug and rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Gerbil.” she paused, pursing he lips to stifle her laughter. “Should I leave you two alone?” 

Jerome looked away and let loose a bundled snicker. 

“Yes, considering the bell’s going to scream in three minutes. Where’s your next class?” 

Poppy raised her hands in mock defeat. 

“ _ Alright _ , I get the message, I’m going.” She rolled her eyes so dramatically Jerome expected them to fall out. They did not, however, as she strode away smirking. Next to him, Mara’s fingers grazed the tip of his elbow. His heart caught between his ribs and he forced it to beat once again. 

“You need to tell her.”

Jerome looked at her looking at him. She smiled reassuringly and his nerves boiled down to jelly.

“I know.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed, let me know your thoughts!


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